5am
by jda
Summary: Daniel told her to call him and he'd join her. Even when Betty didn't, he still came anyway. Fan fic using In and Out as inspiration.


5am

Disclaimer: Inspiration for the time and place are from the episode "In and Out". Other than that, there shouldn't be any spoilers from that episode in this fic. Obviously, I have nothing to do with the show, otherwise Walter would have been history a couple of episodes ago...

This is most likely a one-shot, although there's definitely potential for a series. But I doubt I'll be updating, as there's too much school and work, and not enough time between the two of them!

* * *

"Okay, where the hell are you and my sister now!?" Hilda yelled. Daniel had his cell phone at least a foot from his ear, but the elder Suarez sister was _still _too loud.

"I…huh?" He replied, his sleepiness and confusion getting the better of him. He looked at the display on his bedside clock. It was only 4:57 in the morning, very unlikely for him and Betty to be _anywhere_ now.

"Look, the last time my little sister didn't come home, she was with you," Hilda replied heatedly. "So, where's she now? In your bedroom?"

"What!?" Daniel asked incredulously. "No! The whole world knows Betty doesn't do that kind of thing!"

"Well, the whole world doesn't know her like I do," Hilda insisted. "She's _determined_ to get to the top. So, for the last time, tell me where she is, damn it!"

"And for the last time, I don't know!" Daniel cried. He was more than a little annoyed. He took a deep breath. "Look," he said, attempting to use a reasonable tone. "I'll call her and ask her where she is, and then I'll give her a lift back to Queens or something, okay? I'm sure she has a good reason to be out at this time of night."

"Calling her's not going to help," Hilda sighed. "She's not answering her phone."

"She'll answer me," Daniel said with a small chuckle. "She would probably think I've gotten myself into trouble again."

"I really don't know what she sees in you to stick with you," Hilda grumbled under her breath, fleetingly hoping Daniel hadn't heard.

"Probably someone who will let her make her own mistakes," Daniel added evenly. The Suarez's were a colourful family, and to him, Hilda was the most colourful. "Look," he said with finality in his voice, the type of voice he used when he made an unpopular final decision at _Mode_, "The longer we talk, the longer we don't know where Betty is."

"Fine," Hilda said shortly, "Just be sure to remind her that she can't just walk out in the middle of the night without telling anyone."

"I will," Daniel sighed in resignation. And without saying goodbye, he pressed the 'end' button on his cell. Flopping back down on his pillows, he allowed himself to finally feel the sheer magnitude of fear he had that Betty was actually _not _fine, but was actually in trouble, or hurt, or scared, or…worse. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself and get his wayward thoughts in order, he tried to put himself in her place. Where would she be at this time?

Sighing again, he flipped his cell phone open and pressed the speed dial for his assistant's cell phone. His call went to voice mail. He tried again, just in case she had put the phone in some inaccessible pocket. His call went to voice mail again. He tried one more time for luck, but again, it went to voice mail. "Betty, why aren't you picking up?" He begged, placing the cell phone to his ear for the fourth time, hoping that she'd finally pick up. She didn't.

He slammed the phone shut in frustration, and was only a second from throwing it at the wall, when inspiration hit him. Just as quickly, doubt took over. But in another second, something he could only describe as gut instinct took hold. He shrugged; it seemed like a reasonable place for her to be at 5am. Flipping his phone back open, he called another familiar person. "James, sorry I woke you up," he said apologetically, "Yeah, I know it's 5am… yeah, it's pretty important. Actually, it's _really_ important. How soon do you think you can get the Towncar over here?"

Daniel thought Manhattan traffic was insane at all hours of the day, but it seemed that the city that never slept made an exception between the hours of three and five in the morning. James had him at the bridge in record time.

"Do you want me to wait for you sir?" James asked, turning around in the driver's seat.

"That would be great," Daniel answered softly. James nodded in reply, before pulling the car to the side of the bridge about 20 feet from the huddled blue figure standing at the pedestrian railing. "Thanks," he told his driver sincerely. "I'll make it up to you."

Betty tore her eyes away from the city skyline as someone walked into her line of sight. "Daniel!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"You know," he said conversationally, coming to stand beside her and leaning on the railing himself. "I seem to recall telling you to call me if you ever decided to come look at the city at 5am and I'd join you." He looked down into her eyes sincerely.

"I didn't think you actually meant that I call you at 5am," Betty reasoned.

"Look," he said, turning toward her, "I say a lot of things to a lot of people, but when I say things to you, I _absolutely_ mean what I say." He looked in her eyes and gave her a small smile. "So, if I said call me if you can't sleep and are heading for the bridge, I mean 'call me and I'll join you', okay?"

She gave him a small, half-hearted smile in return. "Okay."

"Okay!" Daniel replied, turning back toward the city. "So," he ventured, "what happened that kept you up tonight?" He turned to look at her and watched in morbid fascination as she seemed to shrink before his eyes.

"Tomorrow…or should I say today, would have been her birthday," Betty whispered, shoulders slumping even farther.

"Who?" Daniel asked, trying to be as sensitive as possible. He had a feeling that if he had been a woman, he would have picked up on who 'her' was, but since he was pretty clueless by his own admission, it was a complete mystery to him.

"My mother." The words were barely audible, but he still heard them.

"Oh." Somehow, words of comfort just seemed too cheap for the moment, and so he kept quiet. But he felt it wasn't enough. His assistant was just too sad for him not to do _something_. In the end, he took a page out of her book, and hugged her. Betty let out a sob, and buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist like she was desperately trying to hold on to the last tangible thing in her life.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled a few minutes later, "I think I've ruined your coat. God, I'm such a cry-baby."

"You didn't ruin my coat," Daniel protested mildly. Truthfully, he really didn't care if she did or didn't. It felt good to finally be there for her and do something for _her_ as opposed to the other way around. "And it's fine to cry, you know?"

"I don't think that's one of the things your parents taught you," Betty kidded gently, removing her arms from his waist so that she could wipe her glasses clean.

"Nope," Daniel said with an indifferent shrug, hoping movement would rid him of that odd sense of loss. "It was Alex. I remember getting into trouble one time, and started crying, and my father lectured me on how boys don't cry and sent me to my room. Alex came in a little while later and told me that it was okay to cry, you just had to pick the right place to do that and in front of the right people."

"Somehow, I don't think crying in front of my boss is 'the right place'," Betty replied, as she put another foot of distance herself and him.

"Maybe not," Daniel replied gamely, "but I think crying in front of someone who understands what you feel is perfectly fine." He turned to look at the city again. "Besides," he whispered as he leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm your friend, and you can cry in front of friends." He nudged her with his shoulder and they continued to look out onto the city in companionable silence until the sunrise.

* * *

a/n: I'm pretty sure they were supposed to be on the Brooklyn bridge, but since I've never even been to NY, I have no idea. If someone could tell me what bridge they were standing on, that would be great! 


End file.
